


the next three months

by Bluebluebaby



Category: The Good Fight (TV)
Genre: F/F, Misandry, Post-S1, Slow Burn, friends-to-lovers, season 2 what season 2?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-22 21:26:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10705440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebluebaby/pseuds/Bluebluebaby
Summary: "It’s a bit of a shock the first time it happens.Maia is arguing against that smug son of a bitch (and absolutely wiping the floor with him) and all of a sudden it hits her, the warm weight of attraction.(Softly, like the swat of a kitten’s paw.)Huh.Didn’t know you had it in you, Rindell."(Lucca defends Maia of perjury charges. They become... closer.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IN WHICH I TAKE A CRACK SHIP AND ATTEMPT TO WRITE SRS FICTION FOR IT. 
> 
> (or, sorry all i want to write about right now is Lucca Quinn)

It’s a bit of a shock the first time it happens. 

 

Maia is arguing against that smug son of a bitch (and absolutely wiping the floor with him) and all of a sudden it hits her, the warm weight of attraction.

 

(Softly, like the swat of a kitten’s paw.) 

 

_ Huh.  _

 

_ Didn’t know you had it in you, Rindell.  _

 

Lucca backlines the thought for later, what with cyber-terrorism charges hanging in the balance. 

 

But, it’s nice to have a mildly pleasant surprise for once. 

_ 

 

Lucca is not unaccustomed to the stares of others. She likes to think they’re earned- work goes into every element of her appearance, from the length of her lashes to the confidence in her stride. 

 

She can sense the driving emotion behind someone’s eyes. Lust, too often entirely unwelcome, from men. Envy or awe, mostly, from women. 

 

(Disdain, from assholes. )

 

Maia  _ studies  _ her. She’s not entirely sure if the younger associate is aware of the attention she pays Lucca, how much of it comes from an over-eager desire to excel at the job and how much of it merely stems from aesthetic appreciation. 

 

Her gaze is gentle.

 

Observant, but completely devoid of scrutiny. 

 

Lucca stops noticing it, after a while. 

 

Maia’s eyes ask for nothing in return, and for that she is grateful. 

 

It’s been a long year.  She could use another friend. 

_

 

Alicia hasn’t called. Not in ten months. They’d parted ways after the fallout from Peter’s trial, and other than meeting up for drinks once and texting a handful of times it’s been radio silence. 

 

It was work that brought them together after all- is there any point in keeping in touch without a common goal? 

 

She hadn’t  _ wanted _ Alicia, but she had  _ loved  _ her, in a way. Admired her wit and resolve, her tenacity. Sacrificed her own needs in favor of the other woman’s happiness. 

 

Lucca Quinn has never been particularly skilled in the nuances of interpersonal relationships, but she is pleased with how she managed to push Alicia and Jason together. 

 

(Even if the loneliness of becoming a third wheel felt like emotional morning sickness.) 

 

She tells herself that things worked out as they were meant to. Her career is finally on-track. Adrian and Barbara  _ see _ her in ways that Diane Lockhart and David Lee never could. 

 

(Or, more accurately, would insistently choose not to, while feigning ignorance.) 

 

It’s fantastic how much one’s life improves when it’s not spent around white people 24/7. 

 

She forgets Alicia Florrick, at least the Alicia Florrick she knew as a friend until she’s once more face-to-face with Diane Lockhart, in the halls of that damned firm. 

 

Until some asshole harrasses a young woman who has the misfortune of bearing her father’s name. 

 

“ _ I had a friend who went through the same thing _ .” 

_

 

Maia is nothing like Alicia, political scandals aside. 

 

She’s exceedingly earnest, and easily flustered. Lucca might have offered advice to Alicia, but she sure as hell never babysat her. Maia may be bright, according to Diane, but she’s still a burden. And a liability. 

 

But in three months, Maia changes more than most people do in years. She walks taller, speaks louder, and learns to hold her own. 

 

She hardens herself. 

 

(Lucca thinks that’s what’s let them become close- this meeting in the middle of compromised personalities. Her own rough exterior, softened by Colin and the jagged ruthlessness of hope, has enough cracks to let someone else in.) 

 

Defending Maia goes from being a job duty she performs as well as any other, to an outcome she’s truly invested in. 

 

And when the tables turn and she’s the scapegoat, and she’s yelling “ _ She’ll fuck you up,”  _

 

She means every word. 

_

It’s ironic that one of the few things she opened up to Colin about was her friendship with Alicia, given how things end between them. When her tears dry, and the overwhelming anger and hurt leave her body, she’s left with a sense of relief. 

 

For all that Alicia refused to regret, she was never made to be a silent supporter, a mere polling asset. Lucca can understand why she stayed- her love for her children, at one point, her love for the man himself, but she can never, in a million years, see herself in the former First Lady’s shoes. 

 

Lucca won’t abandon her high heels for the sake of a man’s ego, much less her career. 

 

If Colin Morello thought otherwise, he’s even more conceited than he seems. 

 

“Even if the grand plan is true, it doesn’t mean he wasn’t genuinely into you,” Maia muses, over wine and pizza on another late night in the office.

 

“Oh my god, it’s  _ worse  _ if the feelings were real. I can support cynical manipulation for political gains far more than an attempt to love someone into an existence of unbridled public scrutiny.” 

 

(Peter Florrick loved Alicia, and he _ruined_ her life.)

 

“I should have known it would end terribly. He told me he would fucking  _ save  _ me.” 

 

“Okay, that kind of is a red flag. Like, peak white boy arrogance.” 

 

Lucca sighs, downing the remainder of her glass. 

 

“If he wasn’t so good at giving head I don’t think I ever would have stuck around.” 

 

Maia splutters, red-faced. Lucca raises an eyebrow at her prudishness, before continuing.

 

“Anyways, the next time I get anywhere near someone who thinks I’m a future trophy wife or a pity project, kindly snap me out of it, thanks.” 

 

Maia rolls her eyes, but agrees. 

 

“The idea that anyone could find you broken is preposterous, but sure.” 

 

“You’re telling me that you, of happy childhood and serial monogamy, don’t think I’m a sad mystery of a woman who will die alone if I don’t open my heart to love?” 

 

She exaggerates the words, eyes sparkling with mirth and contempt. Maia just shrugs and laughs, unfazed by Lucca’s cynicism at this point. 

 

“Everyone’s different, Lucca. What you do with your life and your time is nobody’s business but your own, unless you decide to share it with them. And judging women by their romantic attachments or lack thereof is sexist bullshit, anyway. You’re a badass, end of story."

 

She crosses her arms, chin jutted out in defiance.

 

"If men can’t handle that, that’s their problem.” 

 

“You flatter me.” 

 

(Her voice drips with sarcasm, but behind the rim of her glass she’s all smiles.) 

 

_

A reasonable person would not cross the city during a blackout for the sole purpose of a casual dinner. 

 

Lucca generally falls under the umbrella of reasonable persons. 

 

And yet. 

 

Maybe if she had more friends she would feel less compelled to go to these lengths. 

 

Maybe if she had a reliable fuck she’d be doing what most people do when the lights go out. 

 

Maybe if Alicia Florrick hadn’t been so insistent on exonerating her guilty husband (if only so she could divorce him) Lucca would have never met Maia Rindell, and would have delighted in the schadenfreude of her family’s fall from grace.

 

Her iPhone flashlight illumines the path to the apartment, although she is greeted with a dazzling smile and soft candlelight. 

 

They can joke now. 

 

And  _ hug.  _

 

Lucca brushes off a question about Colin with aplomb, and musters more genuine enthusiasm for cold mac and cheese than she has for most people in her life. 

 

She even almost succumbs to Maia’s naive belief in the balancing nature of the universe, before the knock at the door reminds her that every earthquake has aftershocks. 

 

She should have known.

 

After all, the only things certain in life are death, taxes, and the unfailing selfishness of white men. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> post-finale. Maia's arrested; shit hits fan, etc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am not at all a lawyer, so if any of my wikipedia research is inaccurate, let a girl know! 
> 
> it's gonna be plot/procedure heavy the next few chapters, so apologies if that gets in the way of the lesbian debauchery you came here for.

“And how do you expect to book my client, without electricity?” 

 

Lucca crosses her arms and glares at Dincon, despite his apparent immunity to her ire. 

 

“Oh, that’s cute, you two have a quid pro quo defense operation,” He sneers. “And fortunately for Ms. Rindell, we can still do things the old fashioned way. Never underestimate the power of triplicate, Ms. Quinn.” 

 

She turns to Maia. 

 

“I’m coming with you.” 

 

The redhead shakes her head grimly. 

 

“I’ll be fine, Lucca. I know my rights. But please, tell Amy for me?” 

 

Lucca nods,  before returning her attention to the prosecutor. 

 

“If she’s not arraigned first thing Monday morning I’ll be filing a motion for denial of due process.” 

 

He smirks. 

 

“Don’t worry, Ms. Quinn. This case is at the top of our priority list.” 

_

 

Lucca almost thinks that Amy’s absconded with Henry, given how long it takes her to get home. 

 

(It’s a small mercy that the blackout keeps the press away. For tonight, at least.) 

 

“Lucca?” 

 

Amy stops dead in her tracks upon seeing the other woman waiting in the hallway. 

 

“Where’s Maia?” 

 

Lucca sighs, softening her voice as she breaks the news. 

 

“Henry fled before turning himself in. The feds have arrested Maia for perjury in retribution.” 

 

“Perjury? What on earth would she lie about?” 

 

“She slipped up in her FBI interview. There’s no way they have proof of intent, or even that she committed a falsehood, for that matter, but the public wants a scapegoat.” 

 

“That bastard,” Amy mutters, beginning to pace. “What kind of father does that?” 

 

“The same kind who robs people of their life savings in order to cushion his ego?” 

 

Amy laughs bitterly, throwing up her hands in frustration. 

 

“Maia’s too trusting. Of everyone, but especially family. This will destroy her.” 

 

“Going to prison?”

 

Lucca arches an eyebrow, sensing an underlying meaning behind Amy’s pained expression. 

 

“Prison will be a cakewalk compared to the trial.” 

 

“You think she should plead. Even if that  _ were _ an option-”

 

“No, no, I have no doubt she’s innocent, I just… It’s very difficult to watch someone you love suffer, and feel like there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

 

Silence descends, as both women contemplate their next steps. 

 

“Look, money should really be the last of Maia’s worries right now- I can find her another attorney.” 

 

Amy shifts uncomfortably, and Lucca is not about to have some incompetent first-year from a third-rate firm defending her friend over something as fickle as  _ money.  _

 

“Absolutely not. I’ll spend every free hour I have working on her case if it keeps Maia from conviction. I’m  _ good _ . You want me.” 

 

“Okay. I believe you.” 

(Her words imply a confidence in Lucca that her eyes do not.) 

 

They say their goodbyes and arrange to regroup after the weekend. Lord knows they’ll both be plenty busy until then. 

 

As she’s walking to her car, Lucca pulls out her phone to make one last call. 

 

“Jay? I know I’m asking a  huge favor, but it’s time sensitive. Can you get me everything you can on Amy Breslin?” 

 

_

 

Maia looks like hell. 

 

Lucca hadn’t expected doe eyed optimism, but the only word she can summon to describe the woman in front of her is  _ pitiful.  _

 

“How are you holding up?” 

 

She places her hand over Maia’s on the table, trying to reassure her through a transfer of warmth. 

 

Maia just shrugs, dejectedly. 

 

“I’m not on suicide watch, so that’s something, right?” 

 

Lucca smiles grimly, thinking about bad jokes in Alicia Florrick’s kitchen, what it looks like to see hope die in a moment. 

 

But she’s not here for tea and sympathy. 

 

“Maia, I need to be honest with you here. Do you trust me?” 

 

“I have to, don’t I?” 

 

Lucca focuses her gaze. 

 

“Do. You. Trust. Me? Because otherwise, we can get you another lawyer.” 

 

“I trust you with my goddamn life, Lucca Quinn. Now what?” 

 

“Our best shot at an acquittal is painting you as a victim. We might have to throw everyone close to you under the bus in order to do that. My job is to defend  _ you _ , not your family.” 

 

Maia nods, swallowing a lump in her throat. 

 

“My mom?” 

 

“For starters.” 

 

“Who else? My dad is gone who knows where, Uncle Jax already accepted a plea deal…  _ Amy?”  _

 

Lucca inhales through her nostrils, avoiding eye contact. 

 

“If there’s nothing there to dig up, we have nothing to use against her.”

 

She straightens her shoulders as she meets Maia’s eyes once more. 

 

“But I am going to use every weapon in my arsenal to get you off.”

 

“Jesus.” 

 

“That means, Maia, that if Amy visits you, if your Mother visits you, you do not reveal anything to them. Not our defense strategy, not what you learned in your interview with the Feds, not what you had for breakfast. Do you understand?” 

 

Maia raises an eyebrow in defiance. 

 

“We never had this conversation.” 

 

“Exactly. Now, Dinkin probably sought an indictment in secret because he knows we have grounds for dismissal at pre-trial motions.” 

 

“But the public hates me, so…” 

 

Lucca grimaces. 

 

“The evidence would support that conclusion. But we can win this thing in trial. The only thing more loathed than a spoiled rich brat is her cheating mother.” 

 

Maia looks like she’s been punched. 

 

“You really don’t mince words, do you?” 

 

Lucca shrugs a half-hearted apology. 

 

“I don’t. But the American public doesn’t do well with insinuations. We’ll win this.  _ Trust me. _ ” 

_

 

“Due to her father’s abscondment, we believe the defendant should be remanded, without bail.” 

 

“That’s preposterous! This  _ entire _ trial is a punishment of my client for the sins of her father. She is an upstanding citizen, whose partner is a State’s Attorney. She has weathered the scrutiny of the Chicago public eye for months without once attempting to hide or leave the city, and it will be no different now.” 

 

Most of the time, Lucca’s righteous outrage in court is an act, but today she practically feels the smoke rising from her ears. For her part, Maia is stoic and stone-faced. Transpose her to a medieval tapestry and she’s the picture of gaunt martyrdom.

 

“Let’s meet in the middle, shall we? Bail is set at $100,000.” 

 

The gavel slams, and Maia turns to Lucca. 

 

“All our accounts are frozen. I had that kind of money a year ago, but now…” 

 

“We’ll figure it out.” 

_ 

 

“We  _ have _ the money,” Diane starts with the obvious. 

 

“Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should. It’s bad optics. Why on earth would we stake our good name on defending a privileged white girl?” 

 

(The tension between Diane and Barbara has… not de-escalated in recent days.) 

 

“I side with Diane,” Adrian interjects. “We’ll get every penny of it back, of that I have no doubt. But Barbara’s point is prudent- Maia doesn’t work another day here until she is fully cleared of all charges, no matter how trumped up. ” 

 

“You’re still okay with me defending her?” 

 

He nods, confident in his decision. 

 

“We look out for our own. Just not to the point of alienating all our clients.” 

 

Diane pulls Lucca aside as the other partners head off to more important matters.

 

“Obviously, my conflicts preclude me from working on the case, but is Maia doing okay?” 

“As well as could be expected. She’s tougher than she thinks. Than anyone thinks, really.” 

 

Diane nods her agreement. 

 

Lucca opens her mouth, a question about tactics on the tip of her tongue, but thinks better of it. 

 

(Now is not the time for reopening old wounds.)

 

“Was there something else?” 

 

“No, not really. Just, thanks for having my back in there.” 

  
“Maia needs people on her side right now. I’m happy to help  _ her  _ however I can.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's not fully explained in the good fight, but Lucca revealed that Kurt was having an affair IN COURT. WHILE HE WAS ON THE WITNESS STAND. so, Diane kind of has a reason for not trusting her tbhhhhhhh 
> 
> holla atcha girl if anything is glaringly out of character or just plain bad- life is a journey!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia makes bail; Lucca connects with an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know J Marg is never ever ever coming back to the Kings. But that doesn't prevent Alicia from making an appearance.

“I thought you weren’t coming until the morning?” 

 

Maia sounds much more resigned than excited. It’s unnerving. 

 

“Thought you might want to sleep in your own bed tonight.” 

 

She nods, rising to join Lucca. 

 

“Call me crazy, but I thought you’d be happy to make bail?” 

 

She shrugs, sighing. 

 

“I am. And incredibly grateful. I’m just a bit… drained at the moment.” 

 

“Understandable.” 

 

The ride to Maia’s apartment is excruciatingly silent.  Lucca had planned on talking strategy, or at least lightening the mood with the promise of deep dish and a bottle of wine. Maia almost looks like she’d rather stay in prison. 

 

When they’re greeted at the door with the sight of Amy carrying a giant cardboard box, the other shoe drops. 

 

“What’s going on here?” 

 

She can’t help the venom that rises in her tone- talk about kicking a girl while she’s down- but Maia raises a hand to stay the dogs of war. 

“It was my idea, Lucca. Our relationship isn’t priveleged. It’s better for everyone if Amy and I keep a little space between us until this is all through.” 

 

Amy nods, sheepish. 

 

“My parents are just out in Evanston. It’s not a big thing.” 

 

“They’re not too thrilled with me right now, anyway. And besides, it’s not like we can afford to stay here long-term.”

 

Maia smiles ruefully at the memory of all the panicked calls and hushed conversations her partner had attempted to hide. 

 

Amy grabs Maia’s hand, forcing the redhead to meet her eyes. 

 

“None of this is your fault, Maia. Don’t you fucking forget that.” 

 

Amy pulls Maia in for a hug, and everything that was silently building in the car spills out, tears streaming down her face. 

 

The blonde holds her close, rubbing a hand along her back, kissing her hairline, whispering soothing words in her ears. 

 

(Lucca attempts to disappear into the door frame.) 

 

After a minute that feels like eternity, Maia rights herself, clearing her throat. 

 

“You should go, it’s getting late.” 

 

Concern wrinkles Amy’s brow. 

 

“Are you sure? I can wait until the morning- I really don’t want you to be alone tonight.” 

 

Maia stands a bit taller, strengthening her resolve. 

 

“Lucca’s here. I’ll be alright, I promise.” 

 

Lucca gives a little wave from the corner ( _ remember me?).  _  Amy doesn’t look thrilled with the plan, but she’s not looking for an argument either. 

 

“Alright... “ She searches Maia’s face again, before leaning in to plant a tentative kiss on her cheek. 

 

“I love you.” 

 

She waits half a second for the response that doesn’t come, before inhaling a shaky breath and disappearing into the darkness. 

 

It’s spring, ostensibly, but night still comes early these days. 

 

Lucca shivers, not entirely from the cold. 

 

“I guess this is a bad time to crack open celebratory champagne?” 

 

Maia grimaces at her attempt at breaking the tension. 

 

“Yeah, not really in the mood.” 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

 

(This isn’t really Lucca’s thing, ‘processing,’ but, well, trying can’t kill either of them.) 

 

Maia hesitates, weighing her options, before shaking her head. 

 

“Not tonight. Tomorrow, when we do prep, I can give you the full story, but tonight, I just want a shower and sleep.” 

 

“And food? I can at least procure something edible while you’re in the shower.” 

 

“You know what? I’ll say yes, if only to see just how bad you are in the kitchen.” 

 

“Oh good, your sense of humor has come back,” Lucca deadpans as she rummages in the fridge. 

 

Maia at least looks more awake when she returns, small frame dwarfed by a fluffy robe. 

 

“It actually smells kind of good in here.” 

 

“Bacon and Eggs. Not a three-star michelin meal, but perfectly respectable breakfast food.” 

 

“I will respectfully ignore that it’s 8 o’clock at night.” 

 

“I’m feeling whimsical, Maia.” 

 

She barks out a laugh, as if she herself wasn’t expecting it, and Lucca feels a rush of power. 

 

There are so many things she can’t change or fix or move in the slightest, but for a moment, she made this one a little better. 

_

 

Alicia Florrick has one of those faces that doesn’t age. Not so much perpetually youthful, as having borne the trappings of maturity since early adulthood. She’s a serious woman, and she looks it. 

 

But tonight, she grins, excited, and conspiratorial, and obviously missing the freedom of a simple night out with a good friend as much as Lucca. 

 

“You look… happy,” Lucca assesses between sips of scotch. 

 

“I am.” 

 

(It’s amazing what a couple years and a divorce can do. It almost gives Lucca hope.) 

 

“How’s Jason?”

 

Alicia still looks a bit dreamy-eyed when talking about him, though the details of their life are much more domestic than they once were. The kids are at school, she hasn’t seen Jackie in a year (god bless), and the name she worked to make her own is now netting her fantastic, if eclectic clients. 

 

“I’m sure you heard about Diane.” 

 

“The bits and snippets that everyone has, but not from a  _ primary source. _ How did she react when she saw you?” 

 

Lucca rolls her eyes at Alicia’s sordid tone. 

 

It’s not like  _ she  _ got slapped. 

 

“With the utmost professionalism, thank you very much. And you’ve gotta admit, she’s good.” 

 

The drink in silence, each revisiting her own battles alongside and against the formidable Lockhart.

 

“Actually, since you alluded to it… do you regret any of it? What you did to Diane?” 

 

“No.” There’s not a trace of hesitation in her voice. “If there had been any other way, maybe, but I did what I had to do. Which brings us to?” 

 

Her eyes narrow, full mom-mode. Lucca relents.

 

“A case. On which I’m working. Which may or may not require me to imply that my client’s relationship was a sham in order to exonerate her and portray her as a victim to her family’s sinister machinations.” 

 

“And you’re close to this hypothetical client?” 

 

“We’re colleagues. Friends? Friends. And she’s given me her blessing, to use whatever strategy I need, but I can’t control the fallout.” 

 

“Hey, you made another friend! I’m proud of you.” 

 

Alicia’s voice drips with sarcasm. And tequila. 

 

“Oh, I’m sure you have girls’ night all the time, huh?” 

 

Alicia stares into her glass, suddenly pensive. 

 

“You’re the only person I’ve drunk tequila with since Kalinda.” 

 

Lucca raises a brow. 

 

“Who?” 

 

Alicia shivers, as if waking from a stupor. 

 

“She was a colleague… friend.”

 

She looks at Lucca with renewed scrutiny.

 

“You didn’t sleep with your client’s husband in order to change your name, did you?” 

 

Lucca guffaws. 

 

“No, but please, I need the full story now, enough about me. ” 

 

Two drinks and an hour later, she has it.

 

“I don’t know if the problem was that she fucked Peter so much as she was in love with you, Alicia. Like, totally, head-over-heels, would literally die for you in love with.” 

 

“I know,” Alicia whispers, almost reverently. Like it’s a truth she’s held close to her for all these years, never once acknowledged in the light of day. 

 

Lucca’s buzzed enough to not care how nosey she sounds. 

 

“What about you? Did you love her?” 

 

Alicia snorts. 

 

“Objection. Relevance.” 

 

“Overruled.” 

 

Lucca glares, serious, but kind. 

 

“I think… In an entirely different universe, with an entirely different past, I could have. But no, not in this lifetime. It was too… Dangerous.” 

 

“But the whole woman thing?” 

 

Alicia shrugs, blase. 

 

“The least of Kalinda’s complications.” 

 

“Women are terrifying.” 

 

(Okay. Time to switch to water, Quinn.) 

 

“I didn’t know anything  _ could  _ scare you, Lucca.” 

 

“You have no idea.” 

 

Lucca chews on her straw, suddenly drained from the exchange. 

 

Alicia’s eyes sparkle with a newly sober clarity. 

 

“Win your case, Lucca. It’s a lot easier to rebuild bridges when your friends  _ aren’t  _ in prison.” 

 

Lucca gives a mock salute as she stands to close out their tab. 

 

“Give my regards to Mr. Crouse.” 

 

Alicia rolls her eyes, but squeezes Lucca tightly anyway. 

 

“Don’t be a stranger. I promise I actually answer my phone now. I’m available 24/7 for ethical advice and girltalk.” 

 

“Let me know when you want to get mani-pedi’s,” Lucca shouts as Alicia’s cab drives off, laughter trailing out the window. 

 

Lucca walks home, the wind doing little to permeate the blanket of fatigue and inebriation that surrounds her. 

 

Her sleep is deep and dreamless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk i used to be such a hardcore a/k shipper until tptb ruined that relationship. HAD TO ADDRESS IT sorry if i did so poorly but *shrugs into infinity.* 
> 
> it's taken me a hot minute to get back into this headspace, but I'm hoping to get my rhythm/characterization back and make more progress on this. Feedback and thoughts are always appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trial and tribulations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not a lawyer. this shit is ALWAYS unedited. 
> 
> (i promise this will get more fun/sexy/flirty/all the things you come to fic for soon, but there was some angst to dig through, ya hear?)

Looking back, Maia won’t remember much of the trial beyond freeze frames; flashes of disappointment and betrayal on the faces of the people she loves. 

 

( _ Loved? _ ) 

 

For all the preparation (and recurring nightmares) she’s had for her testimony, it’s almost an out-of body experience, words leaving her mouth and entirely bypassing her brain in the journey. 

 

“A perjury charge demands criminal intent to deceive. It requires concrete proof, which, unless the prosecution can read minds, does not exist here.” 

 

Lucca plays the jury masterfully- if anything can make this experience less painful, it’s watching her work. 

 

“The prosecution has no case, they just want to punish my client for the sins of her father. I brook no argument that Henry Rindell is a lying, sleazy scumbag who deserves to spend years in prison. But we are not our parents, and that argument has no legal basis. I’m just as angry as you are that those responsible have not yet been punished. This charge does nothing to balance the scales of justice.” 

 

The prosecution’s opening statement seems to rest on the assumption that Maia was the world’s most conniving, cruel, callous college freshman the world has ever known. 

 

(She wants to scream, “HAVE YOU MET ME.” Her face remains impassive.)

 

_

“And what you told the FBI agent during your interview, about your reasons for not following through on what you promised your girlfriend, was that the truth?” 

 

“Yes.” 

 

“You didn’t leave anything out?” 

 

Maia hesitates. 

 

“Well, there was one thing.”  

 

She looks at Amy, who gives her a nod of silent encouragement. 

 

“The thing about not wanting to get money involved in our relationship was true, but it was more about a fear of commitment. I was… having doubts and didn’t want to make any promises that would make a breakup more difficult.” 

 

Lucca’s face is the picture of sympathy, projecting onto the jury all the confusion and insecurity of a girl’s first adult relationship. 

 

“But you two stayed together, didn’t you?” 

 

Maia smiles at the memory of simpler times. 

 

“We did.” 

_ 

 

Dincon doesn’t attempt to tone down his misogyny in the cross. 

 

“Miss Rindell, you’re a law school graduate magna cum laude. You were  valedictorian at one of the best high schools in the city. Do you expect me and the jury to believe that you’re  _ stupid _ ?” 

 

Maia bites her lip, narrowing her eyes in defiance. 

 

“Naivete can coexist with intelligence, sir. Most children don’t see their parents’ outwardly-happy marriage and assume that their mother is sleeping with their uncle. It took Hamlet a while to catch on, too.” 

 

“There was certainly a lot of evidence that could have clued you into your father’s guilt. You weren’t even the slightest bit suspicious?” 

 

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty. And most teenagers, believe it or-not, pay more attention to themselves than others.” 

 

He sneers. 

 

“So what? You were too busy with your new girlfriend to notice that your family was robbing hundreds of people blind?” 

 

She shrugs. 

 

“Kind of, yeah.” 

_ 

 

“How did you meet Maia Rindell?” 

 

Lucca toes the line between friendly and hostile body language as she questions Amy.

 

( Maia wonders how much Lucca operates on instinct, and how much she paced in front of a mirror in her younger days.) 

 

“At her eighteenth birthday party. Her uncle Jax invited me.” 

 

“And how did you know Jax Rindell?” 

 

“He was a guest lecturer for one of my 1L classes. We got to talking after class and he expressed that he thought his niece and I would hit it off. At the time I just thought it would be a good connection to have in the legal world.” 

 

“And did he suggest that your relationship with Maia might be something besides platonic?” 

 

Amy blushes, eyes averted. 

 

“He pulled me aside at the beginning of the night and asked that I distract Maia at a certain time in the night. I- he mentioned he’d seen me with a woman earlier in the semester, and he thought she might be my type.” 

 

“So you seduced Ms. Rindell?” 

 

“It wasn’t like that- we didn’t have sex. We flirted, and when she agreed to take a walk with me we kissed a few times. At the time, I just thought of it as a favor to Mr. Rindell, and that I probably wouldn’t see her again. But you can’t really plan for love, can you?” 

 

“Did you know what it was Mr. Rindell wanted you to distract Maia from?” 

 

Amy nods, swallowing the lump in her throat. 

 

“His affair with Maia’s mother. He didn’t say as much, but I had my suspicions that night, and they were confirmed later.” 

 

“So you stayed in touch with Jax?” 

 

“He was always really protective of Maia- I thought he was just covering his tracks on the affair, but after everything else came out, I think he wanted to keep her in the dark on the financial stuff, too.” 

 

“Did Maia know about your relationship to her uncle?”

 

Amy shakes her head, lip quivering. 

 

“No. Like I said, I didn’t think I would ever see her again. And then, by the time we were serious enough to talk about family and money and all the big stuff, it just felt too late, like it would be too big of a betrayal. I was just too much of a coward to lose her.” 

 

“Knowing what you do about Lenore Rindell, does Jax’s refusal to implicate her make more sense?” 

 

“Objection- Leading the witness!” 

 

Lucca withdraws. This isn’t about the facts of her defense anymore, anyway. 

 

“Nothing further.” 

_

 

In between the president’s latest temper tantrum, Chicago Media twitter is quick to pounce on Lucca’s implications. A hundred think-pieces circulate, making the obvious Shakespeare comparisons and accusing the State’s Attorney’s office of being too lazy to build a proper case on Lenore Rindell. 

 

So Maia is relieved, but not surprised when the prosecution drops the charges in the morning. 

 

Amy rushes to embrace her, and she’s so glad that it’s  _ over  _ that she returns the hug without a second thought. 

 

Her mother looks at her like she’s a ghost, eyes cold and penetrating. 

 

Lucca ushers her out of the courtroom, hand on the small of her back and guiding her onto the courthouse steps, where throngs of reporters wait. 

 

“Thank you to the people of Chicago for pursuing justice, not just vengeance. Ms. Rindell is looking forward to returning to her work at Kolstad, Reddick, and Bozeman, and working towards moving this city forward.” 

 

“Will Maia be testifying against her mother?” 

 

Lucca starts to give a non-answer, but Maia holds out an arm to halt her. 

 

“I will do whatever I can to make things right to the people my family hurt.” 

 

Lucca raises a brow, as if to say ‘ _ oh girl, you know better than to promise things you cannot deliver _ ,’ but Maia stands by her words. 

 

“That’s all we have time for. Thank you.” 

_

 

“Do you want to celebrate? Drinks on me, given your newfound vow of piety.” 

 

They turn the corner to see Amy waiting, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot. 

 

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to wait.” 

 

A bitter laugh escapes Maia’s lips. 

 

“Yeah, me neither.” 

 

Lucca looks between the two of them before walking away cautiously to a curious Diane. 

 

Amy just looks like a kicked puppy as Maia tries to find words, without screaming or crying or puking. 

 

“You never questioned my innocence. And now I guess I know why.” 

 

“I am  _ so sorry. _ You have no idea.” 

  
  


Maia crosses her arms, folding inward for protection. 

 

(She wishes it were colder, so she could have a heavy coat for armor. )

 

“Hey, it’s not your fault my family is full of narcissistic white collar criminals.” 

 

Amy frowns, eyes full of pity and compassion and a love that Maia wants to break and burn. 

 

But right now, she’s just fucking  _ tired.  _

 

“I can’t have this conversation right now, Amy.” 

 

Amy hiccups a sob, hand covering her mouth. 

 

“Is this it, then?” 

 

“It’s… I need time to process. I don’t know. I- can I just have a day or two to think?” 

 

Amy nods, eyes watery. 

 

“You can have anything you want. My head on a platter, my firstborn, every hour of every day of the rest of my life, it’s yours.” 

 

“Amy…” 

 

“Just,” she fixes Maia with an intense stare, “know that you’ve had my heart from the moment I met you.” 

 

Maia slumps against the wall, feeling, not for the first time this week (this month, this year) like utter and complete shit. 

 

She opens her eyes to see Lucca out of the corner of her eye, leaving. A hand on her shoulder reveals Diane Lockhart looking down upon her, eyes unusually kind. 

 

“You look like you could use an ally.” 

_ 

 

“Did Lucca ever tell you how we know one another?” 

 

Diane slips off her pumps as she stretches out on the chaise longue in her office, scotch glass primly balanced upon her right palm. 

 

“I know you two worked together, but not any specifics,” Maia shrugs, timidly sipping at her own drink. 

 

“I’m sure you heard the gossip about my husband cheating on me,” Diane scoffs. “Lucca brought that to light, in court, at the request of Alicia Florrick, in order to bargain a plea deal for her husband. We did not end our working relationship on good terms.” 

 

“To say the least,” Maia agrees. “But you’re okay with working with her now?” 

 

Diane hesitates a moment before nodding her agreement. 

 

“I don’t think Lucca is bound by loyalty in the way that most people are. She compartmentalizes between work and relationships. Now Alicia- I can happily live the rest of my life without ever laying eyes on her again.” 

 

Maia lets herself relax into the leather, imagining that within these walls of glass and wood a sacred space exists. 

 

“I think Lucca would probably argue that you would have found out Kurt cheated anyway, and she might as well have used the information for good.” 

 

Diane smiles ruefully. 

 

“It’s not that I didn’t know, or suspect at least, but it was just so… absolutely humiliating.” 

 

“And you and Kurt?” 

 

Diane raps her nails on the glass, weighing her response. 

 

“We’re… better. It took a lot of time. And more than a little fate.” 

 

Maia snorts, remembering how Amy used to say that it was the will of the universe that crossed their paths again. 

 

“I’m feeling a little disillusioned about things being ‘meant to be’ at the moment.” 

 

Diane raises her glass to that, swallowing deeply. 

 

“People have stayed together through worse and parted ways over much less. You’ve got the whole rest of your life ahead of you.” 

 

“That. Is a terrifying thought.” 

 

Diane chuckles, draining her glass and collecting herself. 

 

“At least you’ve still got a job. Take the rest of the week off, and we’ll see you Monday.” 

 

Maia mirrors the gesture. 

 

“I don’t know that I’ve actually said it, but I am really, truly sorry that my asshole father prevented you from a glorious retirement in the French countryside.” 

 

Diane sighs, both from world weariness and the fatigue of a long day in uncomfortable shoes. 

 

“I like to think that maybe the world still needed me, and it let me know in the rudest way possible.” 

 

“Meant to be, huh?” 

 

“Exactly.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did a lot of plotting in my head over the weekend (thanks I-85!) so hopefully I can get more chapters cranked out in short order. Thanks for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maia returns to the world of the living; Lucca plays platonic matchmaker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think writing slow burns might be even more frustrating than reading them?
> 
> which is to say, 
> 
> thank you for your patience, and i hope the build up is ultimately worth it.

 

Lucca half-expects Diane to slap her when she suggests that she offer Maia a bit of mentorly advice. 

 

Diane’s face says as much, her immaculately groomed brow scarcely taming the  _ bitch you thought?  _ Behind her eyes. But as she observes Maia’s interaction with Amy, the way the redhead slumps against the wall, she concedes. 

 

“Go celebrate your win, I’ll handle it.” 

 

(Diane’s voice is surprisingly gentle- free of any acrimony. If Lucca didn’t know better, she’d say she’s grateful, even.) 

 

So, she does. 

 

Adrian and Barbara toast her at dinner like proud parents, and her fellow associates walk the line between supportive compliments and competitive ribbing. It’s genuinely nice, to revel in the rush of victory (to block out the image of a defeated Maia, verdict notwithstanding). 

 

A year ago, she probably would have headed from the restaurant to the club, dancing off the high of the trial and going home with a stranger who was feeling equally celebratory. 

 

But tonight, she just feels… tired. 

 

Lucca savors the solitude of her apartment, kicking off her heels and reclining on her couch, draping a throw across her legs to dampen the early spring chill. 

 

She’s about to eschew her phone for the comforts of a good book when she spies a notification from Maia. 

 

_ Thanks for sending Diane my way. Don’t try to act like it wasn’t your idea.  _

 

_ I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me.  _

 

She suppresses a smile at the image of Maia’s stubborn frown and narrowed eyes, anticipating Lucca’s protests before she can even think of voicing them. 

 

**_I figured she had more helpful wisdom and guidance than myself. ‘No heart,’ and all. Did you make it home okay?_ **

 

_ Okay as I’m going to be. No bodily harm, at least! Now to see if I can find an affordable apartment in the next three days.  _

 

**_I… maybe ask Marissa for help on that one?_ **

 

_ That might actually be a good idea? Thanks, I think.  _

 

_ And while I’m expounding on my gratitude practice, can I just say?  _

 

_ I don’t know what compelled you to stand up for me that first day, or what on earth you saw in me, but I don’t know that I would have been able to get through all of this without that first push.  _

 

Lucca doesn’t hesitate with her response. 

 

**_Nah, you would have. You’ve always been a fighter, Maia, you’ve just never had a reason to fight before._ **

 

She snorts at Maia’s weightlifter-emoji response.

 

**_Keep me posted on your search. I won’t help carry boxes, but I will bring you a lovely bottle of wine to your housewarming ;)_ **

 

_ Not all heroes wear capes, huh? I prefer reds, for the record.  _

 

**_Noted. I look forward to kicking ass with you again next week. Rest up <3 _ **

 

As she prepares for bed, Lucca can’t ignore the sudden lightness in her chest; the dumb grin that keeps appearing, unbidden, on her face. 

 

She’s glad Maia is no longer her client, because it would seem she’s developing a bit of a crush. 

_ 

 

The firm is a little uneasy at Maia’s return, but with how quickly the news cycle spins these days, it’s not long before she’s just as ignored and forgotten as before. 

 

Lucca can see fraying at her edges- dark circles under her eyes that can’t be entirely hidden by foundation, a slump in her shoulders that sets in as soon as she retreats from battle-mode in the courtroom. 

 

“You look like you could use a distraction.” 

 

“Am I that obvious?” 

 

“Not to the untrained eye. But I know all your secrets, Maia Rindell.” 

 

She rolls her eyes. 

 

“That is, actually, alarmingly true.” 

 

“And privileged,” Lucca winks. 

 

“Anyways, I have an old friend I want you to meet. Drinks on Thursday?” 

 

Maia shrugs. 

 

“It’s not like I have a hundred people knocking down my door.” 

 

“I choose to interpret that as an enthusiastic ‘yes!’” 

 

_

 

“Lucca I swear to god if this is a blind date, I’ll kill you myself.” 

 

“Firstly, despite your vindication at trial, probably not a good idea to make even threats in jest. Secondly, have you met me?” 

 

Maia sighs, absentmindedly swirling her wine in its glass. 

 

“Apparently I’m a race traitor now. For selling out my mom in order to return to work with a black firm. It’s a good thing she took a plea, otherwise I think the cognitive dissonance of all the insults would make my head explode.” 

 

Lucca snorts. 

 

“Funny how the worst assholes on the left and the assholes on the right form a perfectly overlapping venn diagram of privileged white dudes.”

 

“I’ve gotten good at avoiding most of it, but Marissa likes to keep me clued in on the most ridiculous conspiracy theories. Apparently, you and I are secret lovers and you’ve brainwashed me into humiliating my family and ex due to their whiteness.” 

 

“Huh.” 

 

Lucca looks up from her stupor to see her honored guest’s interest. 

 

“Maybe put a pin in that one… Maia, I’d like you to meet Alicia Florrick.” 

 

Maia raises a brow in a  _ way to bury the lede  _ gesture, but stands to greet Alicia, all smiles. 

 

“It’s an honor, Mrs. Florrick.” 

 

“Alicia, please,” she dismisses. “I kept Peter’s last name for my career, but I try to avoid it in personal settings.” 

 

Maia nods her understanding. 

 

“I’ve entertained the idea of a quickie marriage in order to rid myself of ‘Rindell,’ but I don’t think I have it in me.” 

 

Alicia looks at Lucca, assessing the energy at the table. 

 

“I think Lucca invited me for my expertise in overcoming public scorn and criminal family members, but I think I should probably start by feeding you embarrassing stories about her, to level the playing field.” 

 

Lucca rolls her eyes, but waves her on, good naturedly. 

 

“Only until we’re all sufficiently buzzed that we can move on to the heavy shit.” 

 

“Drink slow, Maia. Now, where should I start- oh! Has Lucca ever mentioned the time a client kissed her in court?” 

 

“He initiated it.” 

 

“But you did sleep with him.” 

 

“After the case! I’m not entirely unethical, Alicia.” 

 

She’s not ashamed of her past behavior- shame is not an emotion Lucca spends much time with. At least not in the past decade. But the idea that Maia might be judging her based on a vapid fling makes her cheeks burn. 

 

That and the tequila shots. 

 

Fortunately, it really doesn’t take too long for Alicia and Maia to get into the nitty gritty, leaving Lucca a quiet observer. 

 

“It gets better, eventually, doesn’t it?” 

 

Maia looks almost desperate, the alcohol wearing down the walls she’s built up over the last few months. 

 

“It does. So very slowly that one day, you wake up, and you realize that you can breathe, you can think of the future and not feel like you’re being stabbed in the chest over and over. You just keep moving forward, and eventually you wind up far enough away to look back at where you once were.” 

 

“And the gossip?” 

 

Alicia shrugs. 

 

“People are always more interested in themselves than anyone else. Remember that.” 

 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Lucca salutes. 

 

“Yeah, I think my father drove that one home for me.” 

 

Maia giggles. 

 

“Is that a sign of progress? That I can joke about it?” 

 

“I think gallows humor has its place, certainly.” 

 

“What Alicia means,” Lucca interjects, “Is you’re doing fucking great.” 

 

The older woman laughs at her frankness, before checking her watch and sighing. 

 

“Alas, I think my all-night drinking days are behind me. And I have court in the morning. But it was lovely to meet you Maia, and a pleasure as always, Lucca. May our paths cross again. Hopefully, earlier in the day.” 

 

Lucca turns to Maia, not quite ready for the night to end. 

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, but I was kind of afraid you’d bail if you knew.” 

 

“You think that I’d think it was a pity party.” 

 

“Yes, but that’s not-” 

 

Maia’s eyes are suddenly sharp, her gaze piercing and sober. 

 

“You know, every single person I talk to asks, ‘ _ are you alright? This must be so hard on you _ ’ and I know they’re trying to be supportive, or whatever, but it just makes me feel like shit. But you’ve never pitied me. Tonight was good. Really, really good. Like, I can’t remember the last time I went more than a few hours without zoning out or panicking or wishing I could just erase the past year.” 

 

“So, you forgive me for my faux pas?” 

 

“I forgive you for the blind non-date.” 

 

“I have so many questions about those theories… do they not know my mom is white? Hypothetically, is a white lesbian couple less offensive to the alt-right than an interracial heterosexual couple? How does that work when they don’t even consider women as people, really?” 

 

“I think you should be directing these inquiries to Marissa.  _ Reallly  _ not my expertise.”

 

“I think I should probably go home and stop giving losers on Reddit any of my mental energy.” 

 

“That, too.” 

 

They opt to share a cab- Maia’s new place is shoebox small, but at least in a decent location. In the night air, the lively energy of the bar evaporates, and they both wait, wrapped in their own thoughts. Without thinking, Lucca moves towards Maia, until their shoulders are touching, faint warmth emanating through layers of fabric. 

 

She feels solid and strong. 

 

And happy.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from here on out chapters will alternate Lucca/Maia pov. So, some rehashing of scenes for perspective, but mostly linear motion. 
> 
> Feedback/fangirling about the show is always appreciated, both on here and on tumblr (@blueblue-baby). 
> 
> thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> honestly? gay feelings. that's it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone that reads this! escapism is self care!

 

Maia doesn’t really know the etiquette on scheduling a break-up date. As sure as she can’t bear the thought of truly ending things with Amy, she can’t fathom rebuilding their life together. But they both deserve more than a ghosting. 

 

She opts for neutral ground; a park they never went to as a couple, so bustling on a Saturday morning that no one pays them any mind. 

 

Amy looks exhausted, dark circles under her eyes. She sits as far away as possible from Maia on the bench, knowing already what this talk entails. When Maia finds herself swallowing around the lump in her throat, failing to get the words out, Amy breaks the heavy silence.  

 

“It’s okay, Maia. I get it. I don’t think I’d want a relationship with me, either.” 

 

“I think… we could both use a chance to start over.” 

 

“And you don’t have an  _ Eternal Sunshine  _ scenario in mind?” 

 

Maia hiccups something between a laugh and a sob, remembering Amy telling her about how Kate Winslet was the celebrity who made her realize she was gay. 

 

(They hadn’t finished the film that night.) 

 

“My new place sucks. You would hate it.” 

 

“Beats sleeping in your childhood bedroom as 32-year old woman.” 

 

“You haven’t found something else yet?” 

 

Amy’s mouth is a grim line as she shakes her head. 

 

“Too much hope.” 

 

“I’m sorry.” 

 

Maia knows this isn’t her fault, but she still feels like the bad guy. For moving on without her, if nothing else. 

 

“You shouldn’t be.” 

 

“You used to  _ love _ all the fancy stuff, you know? The parties and the fundraisers, and the limos and the new dresses…” 

 

Amy closes her eyes against the sun, leaning back and breathing deeply in an effort to keep the exchange minimally melodramatic. 

 

“I wasn’t using you for your money, Maia.” 

 

“I know, but we can’t pretend that any part of our lives is going to ever return to how it was.” 

 

“We’ve never had an argument. In five years. A part of me wishes you would just tell me to go to hell so I could feel vindicated, or defensive, or anything but  _ sad.”  _

 

Maia manages a watery smile. 

 

“I could try to oblige, but I don’t think I could really sell it.” 

 

“You’re too good, Maia. It’s the thing I love most about you and the thing I fucking  _ hate _ the most about you.” 

 

“That’s more like it.” 

 

Maia takes Amy’s hand, in a gesture of solidarity. 

 

“Alright, let me give it a go.” She clears her throat, squaring back her shoulders as if preparing to deliver a blistering cross-examination. 

 

“Fuck you. I hope you have a beautiful life filled with happiness and love, you dumpster fire. I am so grateful for the person that I’ve become alongside you, and I cannot express how much your support over the past year has meant. I hope the next pigeon you see shits on your head.” 

  
  


“Yeah, that’s better,” Amy croaks, grinning through tears. 

 

“I know we are going to do everything in our power not to see each other again, but would it be too much to ask for a hug for the road?” 

 

Maia never could say no to that face. 

 

She holds her until her arms sting and her chest aches. And when they part, the heaviness in her heart is the slightest bit lighter. 

 

“Take good care.” 

_ 

 

Maia hasn’t cried this much since her first week at sleepaway camp in second grade. Homesick is a pretty accurate description of her sorrow, given that her childhood home has been seized by the feds, her father has disappeared without a trace, and her mother, according to the local news, has taken a plea deal in exchange for the Martha Stewart treatment. 

 

_ Saw the latest headline- on the upshot, you won’t have to testify again,  _ Lucca texts. 

 

**_I don’t know, I kind of liked our court dates_ **

 

_ Sarcasm isn’t your color, Maia. Seriously, can I do anything to help?  _

 

**_Unless you want to get shitfaced in my bachelor pad, I don’t think so_ **

 

There’s no immediate response, so Maia goes back to her wallowing, opening a bottle of wine and watching kitten videos on YouTube. 

 

She’s scared shitless by the knock at the door. Then, pleasantly surprised at the impatiently waiting face on the other side of the peephole.

 

“You could have told me you were on your way, you know.” 

 

“Time was of the essence.” Lucca dismisses her dismay with a bottle of wine in one hand and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s in the other. 

 

“Right, a text and the ice cream would have melted.” 

 

Lucca nods, rummaging through the cabinets for bowls and spoons, like she owns the place. 

 

(Maia’s not entirely sure how she even knew the address.) 

 

“Thanks for the belated housewarming wine. Glad you remembered.” 

 

“Better late than pregnant, I always say. So,” Lucca sets a bowl of half-baked before her, “are we discussing the demise of your nuclear family as you know it, or are we distracting ourselves with booze and chick flicks?” 

 

“I’ve been numbing with baby animals, but if you want to go for a longer narrative, that’s fine.” 

 

Maia directs Lucca to the couch, spartan and slightly uncomfortable. 

 

“What will probably happen, is we will start watching something and I will burst into tears at a trigger that doesn’t fully make sense to either of us. Can you handle it?” 

 

Lucca shrugs. 

 

“Only one way to find out.” 

 

They stretch out as the wine works its way and Rachel Leigh Cook belts out her girl rock anthems (Maia’s not proud of her comfort films, but  _ Josie  _ is honestly one of the more underrated films of the early aughts). Lucca’s eyes drift lazily upward as Maia runs a hand through her hair, letting it part to the side. 

 

“Your hair looks really good like that.” 

 

She couples the compliment with a light touch, brushing an errant strand out of Maia’s eyes. 

 

Maia hitches her breath, caught in the dead space between terror and delight. 

 

She hates this  _ ambiguity  _ around her relationship with Lucca. There are so many signals that would point to something more than friendship, certainly more than collegiality. But Lucca has never indicated she’s anything other than straight (and possibly aromantic), and the only other time Maia has dated a woman they barely had time to learn one another’s names before things became explicitly romantic. 

 

Sometimes, Lucca looks at her like she’s a proud mentor. And sometimes, she looks at her like she wants to jump her bones. 

 

Drunk or not, there’s no good way to say “ _ I would love nothing more than to map your body with my mouth”  _ that won’t irreparably damage a working relationship, so Maia ignores the way her whole body feels like an EDM concert, and replies with a simple “thanks.” 

 

Lucca, for her part, seems to catch herself, slowly drawing her legs back from where they’d draped over Maia’s lap, and sitting a little straighter; drinking a little slower. 

 

“You’re going to get through this, Maia. The hardest part is over.” 

 

“There are too many hardest parts to choose from.” 

 

“Then surely it’s bound to get better, huh?” 

 

Maia sighs. 

 

“I don’t know, I’m half convinced that the moment I let go of my baggage is the moment we enter nuclear war.” 

 

Lucca laughs. 

 

“In that case, kindly wait to reach your therapeutic breakthroughs until impeachment proceedings are complete.” 

 

“Will do.” Maia attempts a salute, but sways a bit. 

 

Lucca crosses her arms, unexpectedly maternal. 

 

“If I put you to bed, will you be all right?” 

 

“You mean you don’t want to sleep on my frat house futon?” 

 

“Maia.” 

 

“Yes, I promise to sleep through the night and not drunk dial my ex or cause any social media scandals.” 

 

“Atta girl. Up.” 

 

She grabs onto Lucca’s outstretched arm for the short walk from to the bedroom. Maia rests her cheek against Lucca’s shoulder, inhaling her scent and leaning a little more heavily than she truly needs to. 

 

Maia flops onto the bed, thankful she’s already wearing pajamas. 

 

“You can sleep here if you want. I won’t give you the gay.” 

 

Lucca raises an eyebrow and stifles a chuckle. 

 

“You got a head start on me, champ. And I’ve got a good twenty pounds on you, so I am decidedly less drunk. I’ll be alright.” 

 

“Text me when you get home,” Maia mutters into a pillow. 

 

“Sure thing. Sleep well, Maia.” 

 

(She’s out too quick to even hear her leave.) 

_ 

 

Maia wakes with a headache and a sinking feeling that she crossed a line last night, albeit an internal one. As she sips her coffee, she runs her hands over the pristine business card she’s kept in her wallet for two months. 

 

“To new beginnings,” she toasts herself, before making a call. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE SLOW BURN IGNITES .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a little longer because im as impatient as y'all when it comes to ladies doin' it sorry not sorry

 

In a way, Lucca is grateful that Maia avoids her for the next few weeks. For once, she’s not the ‘cold, unfeeling’ one. They work together just as normal, but there are no more after-hours texts, or excuses to get drinks.

 

Lucca goes on long runs, until her muscles ache and her mind is empty. She exhausts herself so thoroughly that her sleep is deep and untroubled. When she tries hard enough, she can pretend that nothing in her world has changed.

 

But damn if she isn’t floored when Maia makes her announcement during a morning meeting.

 

“I’ve accepted an offer to work at a smaller firm, and today is my last day. As grateful as I am for all that Reddick, Kolstad, and Boseman has done for me, I understand too, that my presence has caused unnecessary distress. I’m ready to take a turn out of the limelight.”

 

Lucca feels her mouth fall open in shock, as someone politely inquires where, exactly she’ll be working. When she hears Alicia’s name, it turns to betrayal.

 

She leaves before Maia can note her absence.

 

Lucca feels herself hyperventilating, feels her chest constricting and pulse racing as she walks outside.

 

She quells the urge to be sick, but she can’t stand to spend another minute in this building.

 

Eventually, however, she must return- there’s only so many errands to be run out of the office, and depositions wait for no man. She returns to a desk, all business, emanating every possible signal to _leave her the fuck alone_.

 

But of course, Maia saunters up like a timid baby deer, all sad eyes and hurt feelings.

 

“Lucca, I-”

 

“Save it. You used my generosity to springboard out of this firm and into the comfort of upper class white woman sisterhood, and you didn’t even have the decency to give me a heads-up. God, this is why I don’t make friends. People are garbage.”

 

(She doesn’t turn to acknowledge Maia- this is a monologue, not a conversation.)

 

“It’s not like that, Lucca.”

 

“What _is_ it like, Maia? You don’t trust me to keep my mouth shut? You thought I would rat you out to Adrian? Go to hell.”

 

“I thought-”

 

Maia stops herself, shaking her head and turning on her heels.

 

For a moment, Lucca rides the wave of her righteous anger, ignoring the wounded look in Maia’s eyes, the fallout of her own projection.

_

 

Maia tries to call. When Lucca sends her to voicemail for the umpeenth time, she sends a barrage of apology texts.

 

**_I’m sorry. I fucked up._ **

**_I should have told you._ **

 

**_I didn’t want you to try to convince me to stay because you like me as a person- I think we both know that legally, I’m not a huge asset to the firm._ **

 

**_And I didn’t want any personal feelings to get in the way of a professional decision._ **

 

**_Which is part of the reason why I decided to take up Alicia on her offer…_ **

 

**_Anyways. I get that you’re mad. But in the event that you feel inclined to forgive me… you know how to get in touch._ **

  


Lucca doesn’t respond. What is there to say?

 

“Actually, you’re a pretty good lawyer, by any standards, but that doesn’t negate the issue of unresolved sexual tension, you’re right.”

 

Or, maybe:

 

“I might have even agreed with you on taking a new job, had you the decency to raise the issue. Hell, we could have been fucking by now. Your loss.”

 

She’s pissed, but not so impulsive as to send any of her rasher missives. So she turns off her phone and heads to a bar.

 

“Fancy meeting you here.”

 

(The voice drips with smugness. And the grease from a cheeseburger.)

 

“Oh god, this is literally the _last_ thing I need this week.”

 

Colin, apparently fully recovered from their breakup (if one could call it that- ‘unscrewing’ is maybe a more accurate term), just grins, delighting in her acerbity.

 

“So you just came here to drink?”

 

“Yes, Colin, every now and then a woman doesn’t want to have sex with you.”

 

He shrugs.

 

“Sure, there are plenty of lesbians in this city.”

 

Her nostrils flare as she eyes his new phone background- one of those self-congratulatory couple photos, a nondescript brunette planting her hand firmly on his chest as he protectively wraps an arm around her.

 

“Let me tell you how this would go, Colin. You would text an excuse to whoever your new exercise in monogamy is- late work night, tough case, the law sleeps for no one. I would top you and close my eyes and think about someone else the entire time, and you would get off on the rush of deceiving another woman fool enough to trust you. Maybe that’s what you want, but I’m too old for this shit.”

 

He raises his hands.

 

“I won’t even be offended that you assumed the worst of me, Lucca, given my track record. But you can’t say we weren’t good in bed together.”

 

She raises a brow.

 

“I’m always good in bed.”

 

He laughs, and she can’t help joining in, now that the competition between them is officially settled.

 

“Unorthodox proposition: I buy you a drink and you tell me what in the world has made you turn into the kind of woman who refuses a one-night stand.”

 

Lucca downs the promised shot.

 

“It’s pretty simple. I caught feelings. Without sex.”

 

“I don’t even know you.”

 

She doesn’t divulge any more- she’s pretty sure she can die without Colin Morello picturing her in bed with another woman, and it’s not hard to get him blabbering about his new girlfriend. Sex addict, or no.

 

It hurts less than she thought it would, seeing him (relatively) happy. She doesn’t feel bitter, or jealous. And at the end of the night, when she’s lying in bed, she almost reaches out to Maia, but sleep comes before her addled brian can find the words.

_

 

Marissa, apparently, has kept in touch with Maia just fine.

 

“Dude, why are you mad? I thought you hated babysitting Maia.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“She told me you haven’t returned any of her calls. I just don’t get why you’re so pissed at her… unless those right wing conspiracy theories are TRUE and you two have been having a secret affair this whole time.”

 

Lucca just glares at her.

 

“If you have a work-related question, I’m happy to help you. Please don’t waste my time.”

 

“Still pissed. Noted.”

 

Lucca squirms at the thought of being talked about. She wonders what Maia’s told Marissa, wonders if her actions towards Amy came across as jealousy, or if her attempts at support were interpreted as something more-than-friendly. She wonders just how altruistic she’s capable of being (and suspects the answer is: little to not at all).

 

Marissa gets the message though, and doesn’t press the issue. And it isn’t one, until Maia shows up at the firm.

 

It’s a contract negotiation, and a fairly amicable one at that, so Lucca doesn’t even have a pretext for being adversarial.

 

Maia, in a moment of naivite or foolishness, manages to pull her aside once every I is dotted and T is crossed.

 

“In the rare event that all of my voicemails and texts did not in fact reach you, I would still like to apologize. Over drinks, maybe?”

 

Lucca takes a moment to really look at her, all hope and nerves and bravery. And all the anger floats away, leaving only a dull ache in her chest and a lightness in her feet.

 

“I kind of miss your dumb optimism.”

 

“Is that a yes?”

 

“Yes, Maia Rindell, I accept your _offer_ to apologize. And buy me drinks.”

_

 

“I think I actually owe you an apology,” Lucca muses, behind a glass of red wine.

 

They’d started off with small-talk, details on work, gossip about other people. It was surprisingly easy to fall back into that rhythm of just _being_.

 

“I….” Lucca swirls her glass, deciding whether to let loose with the memory that’s been rolling around in the back of her head the past weeks.

 

“I had this friend, in high school. We were pretty much inseparable, practically the only two non-white kids at our private school. Her dad was navy, and I guess he got reassigned, but she never told me. She was just… gone. I felt so fucking alone that last year… I just decided it wasn’t worth it to get hurt like that again.”

 

Lucca wipes away tears from the corners of her eyes, looking down at the bar, mapping the stains to avoid Maia’s eyes.

 

“You loved her.”

 

(It’s a statement, not a question.)

 

“I don’t get hurt by boys, you know?”

 

“I’m sorry for leaving like that. I had no idea it would bring all that back for you.”

 

Lucca laughs.

 

“Why would you? This is literally the first time I’ve talked about it out loud.”

 

Maia nods, sipping her scotch.

 

“Not being hurt isn’t the same as being happy though, is it?”

 

“If I wanted to be happy I think I’d join a convent and never get on twitter again. I want to be successful.”

 

“And successful people don’t get hurt.”

 

“Now you’re getting it, Rindell.”

 

“To success, free of feelings.”

_

 

Maia, to her credit, chooses to largely ignore Lucca’s confession. They ease their way back into “hanging out.”

 

(The term makes Lucca feel like an undergrad, but it fits- their outings veer more towards yoga and coffee than clubbing and happy hours.)

 

Lucca’s not even especially annoyed when Marissa answers the door to Maia’s place- she wouldn’t say she loves the woman, but a lot of things feel like water under the bridge these days.

 

“How is it that you got here an hour before me when we work at the same place?”

 

“I don’t know if you noticed, but Marissa’s kind of lazy, Luccca.”

 

“Not lazy, efficient. And Diana has pretty much zero work for me right now. You, on the other hand, are always useful.”

 

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

 

Lucca pours herself a glass of wine as Marissa returns to her conversation with Maia.

 

“Okay, so mine would definitely be Robin Wright. I mean, have you _seen_ her in House of Cards? Who’s yours?”

 

Maia wracks her brain.

 

“John Boyega.”

 

“Didn’t know you were a _Star Wars_ fan.”

 

“Oh, I’m not, he just seems fun. And not toxically masculine.”

 

“Good choice. Lucca, who would you switch teams for?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You don’t have a celebrity you would go gay for?”

 

“I don’t really do crushes… And pretty much every famous person is conventionally attractive.”

 

“You’re avoiding the question,” Marissa accuses.

 

“Honestly, Lucca, ignore her, she’s been pregaming.”

 

“For me switching teams would be committing to someone and settling down.”

 

“Who do you want to have celebrity babies with, then?”

 

“Seriously, Lucca, ignore her.”

 

“Sonia Sotomayor. They would be the most brilliant legal minds ever.”

 

Marissa pouts.

 

“You’re being boring on purpose.”

 

“Maia, were you bored by that answer?”

 

“Not at all,” the redhead grins. “The basic choice would have been RBG. I like your style.”

 

“Ugh. Lawyers are gross. Can we watch this show, or what?”

 

The _Veep_ marathon turns into background noise as Marissa regales them with horror stories from her dating life, and threatens to set up an Ok Cupid for Maia.

 

“I would get you the _best_ dates.”

 

“I don’t want the best dates, Marissa. And we might have different ideas of ‘best.’”

“Look, who got your shitty revenge-porn twitter-bot boyfriend to stop his bullshit? You should trust me.”

 

“I concede that you are better at the internet than I am. But I’ve kind of had a busy year. Not exactly ready to live my own rom-com.”

 

“How’s the PI license going, Marissa?”

 

(Maia offers Lucca a smile of gratitude as Marissa embarks on a drawn-out story of Jay and Diane and something involving impersonating a Russian spy and honestly sometimes Lucca is amazed that Marissa hasn’t wound up in prison yet. Or worse. )

 

Her phone buzzes and Marissa trails off from her raconteuring to read the text.

 

“Some of my old coworkers are hitting up a party- do you guys want to come with?”

 

“It’s not really my scene, but you should go,” Maia encourages.

 

“Lucca? I know you can still throw down with the best of them.”

 

“Oh, I could drink you under the table, kid, but I think tonight I’m feeling more like a boring lawyer.”

 

Marissa shrugs.

 

“Your loss.”

 

“Call me if you need a ride,” Lucca hollers out as Marissa walks out the door, flipping them off behind her back.

 

“Don’t take pills from strangers!”

 

Maia giggles as they collapse back on the couch.

 

“I’m sorry Marissa was so weird tonight.”

 

“Isn’t she always?”

 

“I mean, yes, but I don’t know, I think I planted an idea in her head.”

 

“Are you going to tell me this idea, or?”

 

Maia blushes, wringing her hands.

 

“It’s stupid. I was just telling her how I’m not really sure how to handle being single, because women are just so more complex, and Amy was literally making out with me the night we met, and I guess she took it upon herself to use her investigative skills on you? And now I feel like a complete ass.”

 

Lucca downs the rest of her wine.

 

_Well._

 

So much for ignoring things.

 

“She’s not very subtle, is she?”

 

“No, not really.”

 

“Might have been more tasteful for her to just come out and ask me if I’m attracted to women.”

 

Maia swallows a lump in her throat as she and Lucca inch into one another’s space.

 

“And are you?”

 

“In theory, yes. In practice…”

 

Lucca stares at Maia’s lips, feeling her limbs become molten lead.

 

The kiss is almost an out-of-body experience, her heart pounding in so loudly she can scarcely hear her brain saying _YOU’RE ACTUALLY DOING THIS. THIS IS HAPPENING. RIGHT NOW._

 

And somehow Maia’s tongue is in her mouth and _wow_ never in a million years would she have guessed that she could kiss like _that_ but damn, it’s good to be surprised sometimes.

 

When they break apart, Maia is practically straddling Lucca’s lap, hair messy from Lucca’s wandering hands, lips red, eyes wide.

 

“I think anecdotal evidence supports the theory,” Lucca croaks.

 

Maia smirks.

 

“I’m not sure an isolated incident counts as proof, though. Perhaps a bit more practice is warranted?”

 

“You make a good point.”

 

Kissing men always feels like a means to an end, not really something to enjoy in and of itself. But Maia is so… soft, yet strong, her touch light but certain. Lucca feels clumsy as her hands roam Maia’s smaller form, but she’s driven to distraction by the other woman. She’s not even certain when she loses her bra, just that _holy fuck words are overrated._

 

“Jesus, how are you so good at this?”

 

Maia chuckles into her neck, sending shivers up Lucca’s spine.

 

“Baby, I think you might be a little gay.”

 

“Apparently.”

 

Maia relents for a moment, leaning back on her heels as Lucca props herself back up.

 

“Seriously, is this okay?”

 

“Very much okay.”

 

“You’re not like, having an identity crisis, or anything?”

 

“Should I be?”

 

“No, I just wanted to make sure. We kind of went from not speaking to each other to not speaking to each other in an entirely different way in a very short amount of time.”

 

“Maia, if you have a problem, you’re welcome to stop.”

 

“Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.”

 

Lucca stands, stretching (and noting Maia’s hungry gaze on the rise and fall of her breasts).

 

“I promise I’ve wanted to see you naked much longer than you think I have. Please don’t make a girl wait any longer.”

 

(Maia doesn’t need any other encouragement to lead them to the bedroom.)

  


Flashes of tucking Maia in run through Lucca’s mind as the roles are reversed, Maia pinning her to the mattress and divesting her of her dress.

 

“I thought I said I wanted to see _you_ naked.”

 

“You did,” Maia husks, biting Lucca’s earlobe before returning her attentions to her neck, “But I got a little impatient.”

 

(Judging by the surge of wetness she feels Maia’s hithertofore unknown dominant side, Lucca is a _lot_ gay.)

 

She manages to accomplish her stated goal, but Maia evades her scrutiny by kissing her way down Lucca’s body, planting herself between Lucca’s thighs.

 

“Can I put my mouth on you?”

 

(Lucca’s not sure her moan counts as a ‘yes,’ but surely her hand guiding Maia’s head downward would be admissible in a court of law as a gesture of consent.)

 

Maia is, as in all things, earnest. And observant, taking in each and every one of Lucca’s reactions to her touch.

 

Lucca, for her part, has never had an issue asking for what she needs. It doesn’t take long after she grabs Maia’s wrist and guides her hand to her entrance that she finishes, pulsing around Maia’s fingers.

 

Maia withdraws her hand slowly, wiping her chin as she climbs back up the bed.

 

“Fuck,” Lucca exhales, drawing Maia in for a sloppy kiss, exhilarated and desperate and _spent._

 

“I swear I want to reciprocate, I just need to catch my breath.”

 

“Honestly? That was more than enough for me,” Maia rasps.

 

(The sound of her voice makes Lucca ready for round two. She’s not sure she’ll ever be over sex-goddess Maia. It’s… a trip.)

 

Lucca traces the skin of Maia’s back, mapping the gradient of freckles from her wrists upward, to pale shoulders.

 

“I want to feel you.”

 

Maia grins, shifting to allow Lucca access.

 

“You put forth a very persuasive argument, Ms. Quinn.”

 

It’s fairly intuitive, actually being with a woman.

 

(Lucca’s not too proud to admit that her imagination has done plenty to prepare her for this moment.)

 

Maia guides her fingers, until she’s riding Lucca’s hand, straddling her and grabbing the headboard as Lucca kisses across her chest, veering dangerously into hickey territory.

 

The graze of teeth against her neck sends Maia over the edge, and she collapses onto Lucca with a breathy moan.

 

Maia rolls to the side, fanning the sheet to circulate air between them.

 

“I feel like we should high-five or something,” Lucca ponders.

 

Maia giggles.

 

“Just two gals being pals, helping each other out and giving each other orgasms.”

 

“Living the dream, really.”

 

“You’re a natural, Quinn. You stick with it you could really go places.”

 

“Go places in lesbian sex?”

 

“I mean, I would recommend you spend more time having sex with me, specifically, before you go out wooing the masses.”

 

“I can live with that.”

 

Maia’s eyes close and her breathing begins to deepen, and a part of Lucca wants to join her, to bask in this relaxation and sleep through the night.

 

But she extracts herself from the covers, planting a kiss on Maia’s forehead.

 

“I’ve got an early morning.”

 

Maia sits up, grumbling as Lucca retrieves her clothes.

 

“You don’t have to make an excuse for not wanting to stay over. I know it’s not your style.”

 

“I do, really have an early morning, in addition to having an aversion to sleeping in other people’s beds.”

 

Maia shrugs, yawning.

 

“Text me when you get home. This was fun, we should do it again sometime.”

 

“We can leave Marissa out of the foreplay though, right?”

 

(She can’t blame Maia for throwing a pillow at her for that.)

 

Lucca obliges Maia’s request once she’s back in her apartment, and receives a selfie in response.

 

Namely, a selfie of Maia in bed pouting with the caption: _couldn’t fall asleep again. May or may not have gotten off another time (okay, two) pretending my fingers were yours. Does that mean I owe you, or?_

 

**_Jesus, fuck, Maia. You are full of surprises._ **

 

_Just you wait ;)_

 

What.

A.

Fucking.

Night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, real talk, hopefully this fic is a welcome distraction for you from the never ending barrage of horrible news these days. If you've got money to spare and an internet connection, please throw a few bucks to some of the local organizations in TX helping out Harvey relief efforts. http://www.portlight.org/ is where I chose to give- they're an on-the ground org helping people with disabilities find accessible resources and disaster relief. 
> 
> Take care of yourselves, and each other.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> light on smut heavy on EMOTIONAL PROCESSING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow s2 of the good fight is REAL BAD??? the only good part is marissa and maia being drunken lil messes tbh. anyways i'ma continue this AU because i like a world where lucca quinn fucks women better than whatever is happening on cbs right now lolol

“We should go out.”

 

“Like, right now?”

 

(Maia lazily rolls over to check the alarm clock. It’s… 2:36 in the morning. And she and Lucca are in no position to be seen in public at the moment.)

 

“No,” Lucca rolls her eyes, swatting gently at Maia’s shoulder. “ _You_ should take _me_ out on a date. A _real_ date- dinner, drinks, dancing. We both wear uncomfortable shoes and have a quickie in one of those posh bathrooms where the stalls have doors all the way to the floor- you know the gist.”

 

“Huh.”

 

Lucca blushes, quickly backtracking.

 

“I mean, you don’t have to, it was just an idea, nothing serious-

Maia stops her rambling with a chaste peck on the lips.

 

“I would love to take you out. I just didn’t know that was something you were interested in or ready for.”

 

Lucca shrugs, trying to look casual.

 

“I mean, we should be discreet. Maybe nix the whole fucking in public thing. But yeah, I would like to return to the world of the living.”

 

Maia chuckles.

 

“Well, I don’t have the budget for my old bougie haunts, but I think I can manage a perfectly respectable evening that neither confirms nor denies the nature of our relationship to the public.”

 

Lucca extricates herself from the sheets, layering up for the cold.

 

“Pick me up Friday at 8.”

_

 

“I can’t believe this is the first time you’ve ever let me see your place.”

 

Maia takes in the sparse, yet tasteful decor, the subtle scent of sandalwood.

 

“You play your cards right and I might even let you see the bedroom,” Lucca rolls her eyes.

 

Maia holds out Lucca’s coat for her, exaggerating her gestures of chivalry.

 

“M’lady, your mid-sized sedan awaits.”

  


She actually did put _a lot_ of effort into planning this evening, avoiding her and Amy’s old favorite spots while still keeping things relatively highbrow. She chose a club that was queer-welcoming without being **GAY** so that gossip would be kept to a minimum. The whole night is flawless, honestly, until they’re walking down the street, arm-in-arm, leaning against one another in that ~ever so slightly tipsy that you just have to be touching each other~ way.

 

“Lucca?”

 

“If I didn’t know better I’d say you were stalking me.”

 

(Her tone is icy, but Lucca’s eyes glint with a hint of mirth.)

 

Morello gestures to the leggy blonde beside him.

 

“This is my girlfriend, Rebecca. Rebecca, Lucca.”

 

They exchange pleasantries, while Maia just stands there, increasingly uncomfortable.

 

“You remember Maia Rindell, surely?”

 

Maia smiles, thinly.

 

(Truth be told, it’s more of a grimace.)

 

“Ms. Rindell, good to see you again. I’m glad you’re well.”

 

(That is… surely an exaggeration.)

 

“We were just catching up on old work talk, you know how it goes,” Lucca covers, consciously creating distance between herself and Maia.

 

Colin nods, but the wheels behind his eyes are turning. He whispers in Lucca’s ear before departing into the night, a spring in his step.

 

“So… is he blackmailing you or what?”

 

Lucca stands there stupefied, for a moment.

 

“No, no. He said ‘congratulations. My lips are sealed.’ Smug son of a bitch.”

 

Maia wrinkles her brow.

 

“You’re mad that he’s doing something nice?”

 

“It gives him the moral high ground. He’ll be insufferable now. It’s worse than blackmail.”

 

“It’s a miracle you two didn’t get married. Jesus.”

 

Lucca turns on her heel, glaring at Maia.

 

“I had plans to eat you out on my kitchen island, but if you want, I can abandon them and you can go write fanfic about me and Colin…”

 

Maia doesn’t need to be warned twice.

_

 

Lucca is adamant about being in control in her own apartment.

 

(Maia doesn’t mind.)

 

If someone had told her that she would be naked and tied to Lucca Quinn’s headboard 6 months ago, she would have referred them to a mental health professional, but, as it stands (or lies, rather), the truth is stranger than fiction.

 

“I literally cannot come any more. Please don’t break me,” Maia protests, falling back onto the pillows with a thud.

 

“I never took you for a quitter, Rindell,” Lucca teases, but Maia senses something lurking beneath the bravado.

 

“Hey. Come here. Please.”

 

Lucca hesitates a moment, before releasing Maia’s restraints and sitting beside her at the edge of the bed.

 

“Is there something going on with you? I’m not complaining, it just seems like you’re trying to prove something here.”

 

Maia props herself up on her elbows so she can meet Lucca’s gaze.

 

“A woman can’t give another woman multiple orgasms without some ulterior motive?”

 

“You just seemed rattled after running into Colin, that’s all. I don’t want you to regret anything that we do together.”

 

Lucca lets go of some of the tension in her shoulders, speaking to the wall.

 

“Him saying that I deserve happiness… I don’t know, it fucked with me. Made me feel selfish, like I was taking advantage of you for my own purposes… I felt like I needed to make the rest of the night about you.”

 

Maia places a hand on Lucca’s cheek, guiding her back to the present moment.

 

“You do deserve happiness, for what it’s worth, although I think he may have projected more onto _this_ than we have… And as much as I appreciate your attention, I would also like to touch you now, if that’s okay.”

 

“I think,” Lucca swallows hard, embarrassed at her own vulnerability, “I think that I just want to be held right now?”

 

Maia kisses her forehead and adjusts the covers so they can lie together.

 

Lucca buries her face into Maia’s shoulder, huffing.

 

“How are you so fucking bony? I thought dating a woman was all about curves and softness.”

 

Maia just draws her closer, wrapping a gangly leg around her calves.

 

“You love these bones, babyyyy.”

 

(She wiggles her hips, for extra iliac impact.)

 

“Ugh. I kind of do.”

 

Lucca’s laugh comes out as more of a sob, truth be told. But they’ve done enough processing for one night, so Maia holds her, until her arm is asleep, and her back is stiff, and the woman in her arms is sleeping soundly.

 

If the shoe were on the other foot, Lucca might slip away into the night, but Maia stays.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lucca just has a lot of feelings okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh i had more ambitious plot plans for this chapter but after that GAY ASS Finale ending i had to get back to these bbssssss 
> 
> hire me to write maia, robert and michelle king! i can make her NOT SUCKKKKK

 

Lucca sleeps like she’s holding onto the bed for dear life, fingers twisted in the sheets, toes searching for a foothold on the mattress. 

 

Maia wonders what it would be like to see her truly relaxed, to cuddle and watch bad reality tv, before shaking herself out of her stupor and putting on coffee. 

 

“I figured you’d want me out of here pretty quickly, but I’m not too privileged to know how to work a french press.” 

 

Lucca opens a bleary eye, accepting the mug with a mix of wariness and gratitude. 

 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” 

 

“Because I-”  (Maia stops herself from the reflexive ‘ _ love you _ .’) “White guilt?” 

 

“Coffee reparations. I’ll take it.” 

 

“How are you feeling?” 

 

Lucca raises a brow over the brim of her cup. 

 

“Like it’s too early in the morning to talk about feelings.” 

 

Maia sticks out her tongue. 

 

“Well, Lucca, if you’re going to be a queer woman, you’ll have to get used to processing.”

 

“I can live without the ID card and organic co-op discount, thanks.” 

 

Maia takes a moment to soak in the scene, rays of sunlight spilling across Lucca’s bed. It feels good to be here, right now, in a way she hasn’t felt in ages. No secrets, no lies, no promises. 

 

“What do you have going on today?”

 

Lucca shrugs. 

 

“I have a lot of prep to do for court on Monday, but other than that, my social calendar is pretty sparse, as you would know.” 

 

“Marissa is insisting on dragging me out with her and some of her friends. You should come out if you feel like slumming it with the youths.” 

 

Maia drawls out the last word, rolling her eyes, but Lucca’s face darkens. 

 

“You haven’t told her about us, have you?” 

 

“I swear, I haven’t. She only knows that I had a crush on you, and well, who  _ wouldn’t _ ?” 

 

“I mean, I don’t even really care if she knows, I just don’t want it getting back to Adrian.” 

 

It’s Maia’s turn to frown. 

 

“Oh.” 

 

“I didn’t mean it like that!” 

 

“Like what? Because I don’t really know what you  _ would _ mean it like.” 

 

Maia tries to keep her voice calm, but she feels her throat tighten and her face flush. 

 

“I just. The stuff with Colin caused enough drama, and I’d just as soon not have my personal life be a recurrent topic of conversation at work.” 

 

“Don’t worry- I won’t embarrass you,” Maia scoffs, picking up her things. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Lucca grabs her wrist, light as a feather, “I just don’t want him thinking differently of me.” 

 

“Other than the fact that I’m a woman, how is dating me any different from dating Colin? Except for the fact that he still has his money?” 

 

“You mean something to me.” 

 

It’s almost a whisper, like Lucca can’t bear to admit out loud that this might be more than sex. Or friendship. 

 

Maia stops, turns, and sits back down on the edge of the bed. 

 

“I’m fine with keeping this between us unless a conflict of interest should arise. And Marissa is too scared of you to talk about you behind your back. I’m not really yearning for the limelight these days, myself.” 

 

Lucca nods, already visibly folding inward on herself. 

 

“Well, I should probably get to work on that trial prep.” 

 

“Yeah. Okay. Call me if you want to see me get white girl wasted and sing karaoke tonight.” 

 

“Are you  _ trying  _ to ruin my attraction to you?” 

 

“You’ve never seen my ‘Love is a Battlefield.’” 

 

Lucca walks Maia to the door, pausing in the threshhold to kiss her. 

 

“I promise I’m trying to be less shitty.” 

 

“I know.” 

_

 

In the muddled cloud of loud dubstep and axe body spray, Lucca recalls with a clarity why she usually dates older men. 

 

Marissa is the first to find her. 

“Luccaaaaaaa, you look  _ hot. _ ”

 

“You look drunk.” 

 

“Omg you should be an investigator you’re so _ goood.” _

 

“Where’s Maia?” 

 

Marissa drags her (literally) to a small corner table where Maia is nodding, wide-eyed, as a petite blonde recounts something terribly exciting, if her gestures and yelling are any indication. 

 

“Look who I found!” 

 

Maia mouths “ _ thank you for saving me _ ” and rushes to introduce her (and thereby create distance from her new companions).

 

“Everybody, this is Lucca. Lucca, everybody.” 

 

“Everybody” consists of Marissa’s weird boyfriend, and two other het couples who look like they could be extras in an episode of  _ Broad City.  _ Sudden dread hits Lucca’s body, and she leans down to whisper in Maia’s ear. 

 

“Remind me why I’m here?

 

“Because you  _ liiiiiikkkkkeeee _ me.” 

 

“Remind me why I like you?” 

 

“Because I’m cute and smart and great in bed?”

 

“Wow, Alicia has really improved your arguing skills.” 

 

Maia turns to look at her, fully, and if Marissa didn’t know they were together before, the adoration on her face gives it all away. 

 

“Dance with me.” 

 

“Let me get a drink first. I can’t be completely sober for this shit.” 

 

Once the tequila shots are downed, Lucca doesn’t mind joining Maia in the fray. 

 

It’s weird to see her so carefree, not at all self-conscious for maybe the first time since her father’s arrest. The music is shit, but Lucca finds the beat, wrapping an arm loosely around Maia’s waist. 

 

“Thank you for coming out.” 

 

“I didn’t think I did?” 

 

“No, I mean, coming here, finding me, not being mad, or whatever.” 

 

“My brain was about to explode. Needed to relieve some stress.” 

 

“Yeah, but you still picked me. Feels nice.” 

 

Maia snuggles in close, resting her head on Lucca’s shoulder. 

 

“So… Marissa’s friends…” 

 

“They’re really fine, honestly! Not the usual lawyer types we surround ourselves with, but you know, fun…?” 

 

“How is it that I’m only five years older than you and yet I feel like I’m about fifty right now?”

 

“You’re too sober.” 

 

“Not sure this is an ‘if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em situation.” 

 

Maia looks to the other, and notices that they’re all practically making out with their respective partners on the dance floor.

 

“How is it that straight people get to be fucking disgusting in public with zero consequences?” 

 

Lucca guides them into the darkest corner of the room. 

 

“Can we be moderately distasteful in semi-privacy?” 

 

Maia grins. 

 

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

 

_

 

*6 new message notifications* 

**Marissa Gold**

_ okay Maia told me to keep it on the dl  _

 

_ but omg  _

 

_ congratssssssss  _

 

_ i mean i kind of feel like you owe me some credit for ~pushing you two together~  _

 

_ but like i’m not even mad that u dragged her home before we even got to karaoke  _

 

_ that’s how happy i am for u _

_ _ _

 

This bitch. 

 

**How is it that you’re never actually working?**

 

_ I’m legally entitled to a lunch break geeez _

 

_ You oughta know  _

 

**Whatever. Thanks, I guess.**

 

_ Give maia my love ;)  _

 

**I absolutely will not.**

 

**_**

 

The world does not implode, now that someone else knows that Lucca Quinn has had sex with a woman, and probably has quite a few feelings for her as well. And true to her word, Marissa doesn’t make a big stink of it at work. Lucca manages to compromise to drinks in dive bars instead of molly-ridden dance parties when they see each other outside of work. There’s something about the twilight of late summer that makes Lucca shed the protective layers she built up over the winter. She finds herself doing things like calling Maia as she leaves the office, smiling unwittingly. Holding hands before she can think better of it. Falling asleep beside her and mumbling “I love you” as drowsiness overcomes her. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! as always, feel free to inbox me on tumblr about how BAD SEASON 2 OF THE GOOD FIGHT WAS

**Author's Note:**

> your thoughts are always welcome and appreciated, like a smile from Lucca.


End file.
